On this day in history (1992) the best thing that had ever happened to me up until that point occurred. My goddaughter, code named Katie Bug for her protection, burst forth from her mothers loins and promptly peed on the doctor. I was there, and having seen the episiotomy they had given her poor mom, I was happy about that.
She was, to me, beautiful from the second she emerged. I am apparently someone who thinks vernex, slime, blood, and an attached umbilical cord add a certain éclat to one’s look. I have to admit that she was even prettier after they got her cleaned up, though. If nothing else, her strawberry blond hair was now more visible. For the first six months she is scowling in every baby photo I have of her, but it is a charming scowl.
Katie Bug was a serious child. I would make a joke, then she would look at me solemnly and explain – using small words – why I was wrong and/or an imbecilic. Come to think of it, she spends a lot of time making that same expression as an adult too.
My goddaughter turned out to be brilliant, as well. Although to be honest she ate strawberry chapstick when she was a kid and for a while there I was starting to wonder if she was right in the head. Turns out she had plenty of brains. Just not the kind of brains that would discourage eating chapstick. On the plus side, I did teach her to say, “Do not try to oppress me with your patriarchal baloney!” by the time she was three.
The Bug is unoppressable still today, so that was a win.
I love you, Katie Bug. I hope you have a WONDERFUL birthday!!